SPOILER ALERT! This Fanfic contains minor spoilers for basically all of volume 15 (chapters 58 to 61).

A/N: This is just something I dug up while going through the many Royai fanfics I have on my comp. It's actually the second fanfic I wrote. The first was a seven-chapter-long story that I never got around to continuing/finishing.

Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own FMA. If I did, then Holy would be born. And she's pretty much the only thing I own in this fic. (that, and the idea/plot)

Keeping it Bottled up

Riza trembled in her husband's strong arms, sweat dripping down her face. She was dreaming.

A younger Riza stood on a blood-stained battlefield, her restless caramel eyes scanning the field for any survivors. She secretly hoped she wouldn't find any; she didn't think she'd be able to stay sane if she killed another helpless person.

Something moved in the distance and tears threatened to push their way out as she whirled around, her hands shakily gripping her gun. A child stood on the other side of the dirt road, crying for its mother. The boy looked pathetic—Hawkeye knew the description was bland, but there were no words that could ever possibly describe the child's poor state, even now.

Riza then did something she wished she never would have done; she hesitated. She didn't shoot the child. She couldn't bring herself to do it. Hawkeye longed to go to the boy's side and comfort him, hide him, get him out of there—something!

But her entire body was frozen from shock. She couldn't move!

"No!" she gasped, trying to find the strength to move her legs.

The rumbling of engines roared behind her. Now she was frantically trying to get her brain to work. Move, you idiot! Her mind screamed at her.

The military truck rumbled past her, her entire body numb with fear. She watched in horror as the soldiers in the vehicle shot at the helpless child, paralyzed in shock. In that single moment, as the boy's small body slumped to the ground, he looked directly at Riza.

In his deep amber eyes, and written all over his face, were a thousand pleas for help. The sharpshooter stood there, unable to move as his body hit the desert ground. The Ishbalan boy's blood slowly began to pool around him. The truck simply continued on without stopping, even as they shot at him, as though nothing had happened.

Riza forced her body to move and she rushed to the dead child's side, kneeling next to him. His dark caramel eyes stared sightlessly back up at her. Unwanted tears streamed down her cheeks as she gently closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry." She whispered. In a few more minutes the child was buried under a mound of dirt with a stick jutting out the top—a poor excuse for a grave, but there wasn't much else she could do. She patted down the dirt on the grave wordlessly.

A scream pierced through the silence.

Riza awoke, startled. Her night shirt was stuck to her back with sweat. But that was not what woke her from her nightmare.

She sat up in her bed slowly, easing herself out of her husband's embrace. Riza looked down at him now, watching him sleep peacefully. She knew for fact that his nightmares were probably far worse than hers. At least she didn't have to hear her victims scream in agony or watch their flesh burn before her eyes. No, for her it only took one shot, or two. There was no struggle.

The woman leaned down and brushed aside a few strands of his raven-black hair, gently kissing his forehead. He let out a sigh of content and rolled onto his other side. Her husband was a heavy sleeper, which she was actually expecting when they started going out. He already procrastinated at work, despite her constant nagging. Hell, she could put her gun to his head and he would STILL slack off on his paperwork. Being a heavy sleeper just seemed to fit his lazy personality.

Soft cries echoed in the hallway outside the couple's bedroom, making her jump. That was what awoke her.

Riza climbed out of bed and paused by the bedside table for a moment. Inside the second drawer of the table was a gun, one of the many she kept lying hidden around the house in spots only she knew of.

Remembering the nightmare she had just escaped made her change her mind, though. She didn't want any killing. Not in this house.

The blond woman crept out of the room silently, her bare feet padding quietly on the hard wood flooring. Riza made her way down the hallway, following the source. She paused next to a room. Its door was slightly open. Yes, that was it. Soft sobs were emitting from inside. Riza let out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding and walked into the room.

The room's walls were painted a light lilac color. In the corner was a small table were a lamp rested which was currently turned on. Next to the table was a twin sized bed, on which a small shape was huddled. Next to the shape was Riza's beloved pet, Black Hayate, who was trying to comfort the person by licking her hand. The shape was a girl—Riza and Roy's daughter, to be specific. Her long black hair was draped over her back, a few strands falling over her face. She hugged her knees close to her body, which heaved with sobs and cries.

Riza's face softened as she approached her daughter and rubbed her back gently. The young girl looked up at her mother with her dark caramel eyes, her cheeks streaked with tears and her nose red. She buried her head in her mother's shoulder, crying.

"Shh," Riza soothed the girl, wrapping her arms around her reassuringly "It's okay. It was only a dream."

The girl lifted her head from her mother's shoulder and gazed up at her with her dark amber eyes. They pierced Riza's heart in the most painful way.

Because that Ishbalan boy had the exact same eyes as her daughter.

The dead sure have one hell of a way of getting revenge, she thought with dry amusement.

"Momma," Riza's daughter's small voice jolted her out of the terrible memories "I had a terrible dream…"

The lieutenant's eyes softened as she gazed back down at her daughter lovingly "Tell me about it. Keeping it bottled up will only make it worse."

Her daughter paused for a moment, and then let go of her mother, meeting her gaze "Then how come you don't tell me about your nightmares?"

Riza winced and shook her head. She wasn't about to let her child think she was weak.

"That's because mommy has really scary nightmares, maybe even worse than yours."

The young girl stared up at the woman for a while, as though contemplating on whether she was telling the truth or not.

"Holly..?" Riza softly called out her child's name, prompting her to speak.

Holly blinked and touched her mother's arm softly "Isn't that because you've kept it bottled up for so long? Because…you never told anyone 'bout it, right?"

The blond woman smiled and held her daughter close. "How about this?" she decided, letting go of her "You tell me your dream and I'll tell you mine."

Holly nodded and began to tell her about her nightmare.

"It was awful. I…I was standing on a dirt road somewhere, looking for you. And…..I felt sore all over." Tears began to form at Holly's eyes as she continued "Then….a truck full of monsters came and attacked me. As they attacked me, I…I saw you standing there, watching. I kept screaming at you to help me, but you just stood there and watched…it was so terrible!"

Holly sobbed into her mother's shoulder, soaking her night shirt. Not that Riza cared.

The blond woman buried her face in her daughter's raven-black hair, struggling to contain her own cries.

Yes, she was sure that her daughter must be the reincarnation of that Ishbalan boy. There was no mistaking it.

"Momma, what was your dream about?" Holly sniffled as she looked up into her mother's similar yet lighter caramel eyes.

Riza looked down at her hands, unable to meet her child's gaze as she spoke.

"My dream…my dream was almost the same as yours, actually…"

Her hands trembled as she continued.

"I…I dreamt that you were getting hurt but I couldn't help you."

"Why?"

"Because…" Riza bit her lip, blinking back tears "Because I was scared I would get in trouble."

Holly looked at her in disbelief "Why would you get in trouble for helping someone?"

Air slowly slid out of the mother's lungs in a shaky breath as she hugged her daughter close.

"I…I don't know, Holly." She whispered, tears sliding down her cheeks "I don't know."

~Owari~

A/N: Wow, this fic is old…anyways, please review as always! No flaming!